


Claw My Way Into You

by KeenWolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha Peter Hale, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Car Sex, Dark Peter Hale, Forced Bonding, Forced Orgasm, Groping, Hand Jobs, Kidnapped Stiles, Kidnapping, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Molestation, Non-Consensual, Pack Building, Power Imbalance, Rimming, Rough Sex, TW Season 1 AU, adult/minor sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 06:32:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6943669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeenWolf/pseuds/KeenWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bad deal, an empty road to nowhere, and a human who refuses to submit. There's more than one way to build a pack—to force a bond—Peter picks the one that's most enjoyable. </p><p>  <i>(Season one canon divergence: Derek never returned to Beacon Hills, Scott is still a werewolf. When Stiles figures out the Alpha is Peter he ends up in terrible situation and is forced to make a desperate deal.)</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Claw My Way Into You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reeby10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reeby10/gifts).



> Just a super late gift! I hope you like it.
> 
> Many thanks to Farasha and within_a_dream for the betaing!

Ever since Peter had unlocked the trunk and yanked Stiles out of it, the boy had been talking. An endless barrage of questions, complaints, and out of place high school anecdotes. Zoning back into the conversation, he realized the boy was continuing his long-winded one-sided conversation detailing the attributes of a young lady. Who, Peter was certain, the boy had never actually talked to. 

“As fascinating as I find this Lydia person to be, you’re never going to have a chance with her,” Peter said, cutting Stiles off.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Stiles scoffed, trying to lounge back into the seat, barely concealing how uncomfortable he was with the whole situation. His leg hadn’t stopped jittering for miles, and he was constantly craning his head around, trying desperately to find any road signs or landmarks he recognized. 

The overwhelming aroma of terror still clung to Stiles, even hours after Peter had released him from the trunk. It made him feel centered, powerful; after all, an Alpha should be feared. 

“I can smell the desperation on you Stiles. If you’ve been touched by anyone but your own hand I’d be shocked to hear it. Let’s talk about something else.”

“How about this?” The boy said, yanking at his wrist where it was securely bound to the armrest with rope. “It’s going to look really bad for you if anyone pulls us over.”

Peter looked out at the empty two-lane highway in front of them, before smirking over at the boy. “I doubt it’ll be a problem out here.”

“They’ll be looking for me. They’ve got to know I’m missing by now.”

“I doubt that. They think you ran into the woods chasing after the animal that attacked your father.” 

“The animal that was you!” Stiles pointed at Peter, jerking his free hand in the air in exasperation. “And really? They actually think I’d chase after a mountain lion? What do they think, I’m stupid?” The boy waved this question away. “Don’t answer that.” 

Leaning back in the seat he started chewing on one of his nails. 

The smell of his unease ramped up as Stiles’ leg started bouncing again. It had to bother him, the idea that no one knew where he was or what was going to happen to him. 

Stiles turned and glared at Peter. 

“Where are we going anyway?” Stiles asked again. “I’ve already missed my curfew sleeping in the trunk of your car, thanks for that by the way. I can’t stay out all day today too. I have school on Mon-”

“Not anymore,” Peter said, looking over at Stiles, relishing the way the boy stilled like prey. “You didn’t forget you offered to join my pack, did you?” 

“Back in Beacon Hills,” Stiles said, his voice raising in volume, “where I live! You can’t just kidnap me for a road trip.” 

“Road trip? No Stiles, I’m done with Beacon Hills.” 

Stiles gaped for a moment, mouth moving silently before finding his voice. “So what? You’re packing it in? After months of ruining our lives? Unbelievable!” Stiles yelled, throwing himself back against the seat. 

“I’ve finished marking the names off of my list, no thanks to all the interference from you and Scott.” 

“Glad to help. So, what the hell is this? Are you really kidnapping me, the sheriff’s son? You think you can get away with that?” The confidence and strength in those words were all a bluff. Stiles’ heart was racing, his eyes darting around the car.

“People go missing everyday Stiles,” Peter said, letting his eyes sweep over the boy, lingering in a way that clearly made him uncomfortable. The spark just under the boy’s skin was still there, waiting to be tapped, to be bound. “Once the binding ritual is finished, you’ll be pack, and you’ll follow me whether you like it or not.” 

“Wait.” The boy tilted his head in confusion. “Ritual? You didn’t mention a ritual?”

Peter scoffed. “Did you really think I’d just let you go, after you offered to join my pack in exchange for your father’s life? What did you think would happen? That I’d send you home with a wave and a ‘see you later Stiles?’” 

“Well yeah,” Stiles said with a forced laugh. “Yes?” He ran a hand through his buzz cut. “Look! I’m not a creepy werewolf bent on murder. I don’t know how this works.” 

Peter almost laughed. It was so simple—all anyone had to do was make an offer and a werewolf could connect that human to their pack. Now, just how that person was bound… _that_ was the fun part. 

There were so many different ways to build a pack and even more ways that it could go wrong and horrible. Even before the Hale pack burned, Peter had been obsessed with those sordid tales of dark packs. After he’d killed Laura to become the Alpha, he’d been so focused on revenge that he hadn’t given making a pack much thought, other than biting Scott. But revenge had not fixed him. Ripping out Kate Argent’s throat hadn’t changed anything. Peter was still unstable and he knew it. The feeling that he was teetering on the edge of madness dogged him. 

A real pack was the only thing that could steady him, but he didn’t want a regular pack—he wanted something darker. The drive to bite still gnawed at him, but Stiles had rejected that offer, one of the many reasons Peter had locked the boy in the trunk last night. Not only had that petty act blanketed his growing need to complete the binding, but the sounds of Stiles panicked shouts had soothed his anger. Still, logically he knew he didn’t want another beta like Scott, one that would refuse to follow his orders. Not when binding a human would do just as well. Maybe even better in some ways—keeping Stiles human would leave the boy at his mercy. It was serendipitous that Stiles was so willing to offer himself just to save his worthless father. 

“But I can’t just leave. I have a life, Scott, school, Lydia,” Stiles paused for a moment, “my dad.”

“Don’t worry Stiles,” Peter said moving his hand to the boy’s shoulder, squeezing it, enjoying the way he could feel the power inside the boy reaching out for him. “I’m sure this Lydia will manage to move on, she might actually remember your name when you show up on the missing person posters around town.” 

Stiles jerked away from Peter’s hand. “Real funny. What about our deal? My dad, you just left him out there. He was hurt, how do I even know if you’re keeping your end of the bargain?” 

He didn’t. Peter could tell him anything and the boy would just have to accept it, but Peter didn’t have to lie about this bit of information. “Your father’s condition is stable. Just a few broken ribs and a concussion.”

Stiles still looked suspicious. “How do you know that?”

“I have a phone, Stiles. I received a message about it just this morning.” Right before he’d let the boy out of the trunk. Peter didn’t need to keep his word, but it was nice to know he had.

“There’s another person in your pack?” Stiles looked upset by this fact. “So what? They get to stay in Beacon Hills while you kidnap me and take me out to the middle of nowhere? That doesn’t seem fair.” 

“It’s not the middle of nowhere.” But it was close to that. These roads were deserted this time of the year. “It’s over a hundred miles away from your old pack. I need to weaken your connection to Scott before I can make you mine.” 

That wasn’t completely true. Scott had never finalized the bond with Stiles, but there was enough of a connection that it was better to put a fair amount of distance between the two of them. That way, even if Scott felt his connection to Stiles break, he wouldn’t be able to tell what had happened or where Stiles had gone.

“I’m connected to Scott?” Stiles broke into a grin for a moment before he seemed to realize it wasn’t going to help him.

“It’s weak, but I don’t want any conflicts to your loyalty.” 

Stiles fit all of Peter’s needs: smart, young, foolhardy, a loner. Even the insincerity of Stiles’ desire, his duplicity, excited Peter. He was looking forward to making Stiles make good on his promise no matter how much he’d dislike it.

“That almost sounds reasonable. I don’t buy it,” Stiles said, and there—that was the suspicion that had drawn Peter to him. Even back when Stiles had shown up at the long term care facility to talk to his nurse, he’d questioned everything he was told. “What’s the real reason?”

“I needed to get you completely alone,” Peter said with a smile.

Stiles fidgeted in his seat, rubbing his sweaty hand on his jeans. “Well, that’s legitimately creepy. First Scott and now me, do you have a thing for young boys?” It was said in an offhanded manner but Peter could smell the sudden apprehension, as if the boy had just realized he was completely at Peter’s mercy. 

“I wouldn’t call it a thing,” Peter said licking his lips. “But you really should have known better than to get into my car.” 

Stiles’ whole body jerked like it was being electrocuted when Peter placed his hand on his knee. It looked large, like it didn’t belong where it was, so Peter slid it closer to Stiles’ crotch. He stopped only a few inches away. Yes, that looked better. The terror on Stiles’ face was exactly what Peter wanted. 

“Don’t look so shocked. You already knew I had a very hands-on approach,” Peter said, breathing in deeply, enjoying the scent of Stiles’ panic. 

“Wha-what are you doing?” Stiles said his voice cracking as he tried to move away from the touch. Letting his claws extend out, Peter tapped them on the inseam of Stiles’ pants. The boy stilled at the warning, like a rabbit caught in the jaws of a trap.

“The requirements to bind a human into a pack vary wildly. But debauchery is one of the most enjoyable. I’m not expecting much from you as part of my pack, other than… entertainment.” The boy flinched at that statement, hopefully fully grasping all the horrible things it included. Peter squeezed his thigh and smiled at Stiles’ terrified expression. It was for too late for escape. “But first I need get to know you better, feel you out.” 

Stiles shook his head, eyes darting to the road and then back to Peter. “I don’t- are you sure you want to do this right now, distracted drivers are over 75% more likely-” Stiles’ voice became high and shrill, cutting off, as Peter slid his hand up against his crotch, cupping Stiles’ genitals. Peter dutifully returned to watching the road as the boy jerked next to him, squirming with nowhere to go. The hand that was not tied down grabbed at Peter’s arm but couldn’t budge it, as Stiles’ legs pushed uselessly against the floor boards.

“Stop moving, Stiles. You wouldn’t want to get clawed down there, would you?” Peter warned and glanced over to watch Stiles as he stilled, panting desperately as he forced himself to relax. Stiles let go of Peter’s arm and Peter waited until his free hand lay on the seat before he started slowly stroking Stiles between his legs. 

The boy’s mouth dropped open, his hand curling into a tight fist as he shuddered. Strangled sounds escaped Stiles’ throat as Peter’s fingers pressed and rubbed up and down the length of the boy’s dick. Peter reveled in the way the flesh under his touch came to life, even as Stiles flinched and trembled in revulsion. Closing his eyes, Stiles gasped a few deep, shaky breaths, his legs twitching, as Peter fondled him. 

Stiles had mostly tried to obey Peter’s order to keep still, but he just couldn’t keep quiet. His voice was strangled. “This isn’t- I don’t want-”

“A shame, would you rather do this differently? I could put your mouth to better use.” That shut the boy up, his teeth snapping shut so suddenly Peter could smell blood where Stiles bit his lip as he shook his head, eyes wide and panicked. “No? That’s good, I think you’ll enjoy this much more.”

Stiles’ eyes squeeze closed as he curled over, squirming in his seat. The smell of the boy’s arousal mixed into the overwhelming scent of fear and anger, making Peter’s mouth water. The desire to take, to hurt, grew with every bitten-off noise Stiles made as his dick stiffened under Peter’s hand.

“No one’s ever touched you like this before, have they? No, of course not, if they had you wouldn’t be so desperate for attention.” Peter said, a deep chuckle rumbling out as the boy jerked his head up to glare. But before Stiles could speak, he rubbed over the sensitive head of the boy’s dick making him gasp, thighs tensing and trembling under the assault. “Don’t worry, Stiles, I’m going to do whatever it takes to make you mine.”

“I don’t want this! I don’t want you. This isn’t affecti-” Stiles’ words cut off as Peter dug his fingers in, squeezing the boy’s balls roughly, making Stiles whimper in pain, his legs squeezing together uselessly.

“Of course not,” Peter said, “I don’t need you to like me to bind you. In fact, I don’t want you agreeable. That would take away the joy of forcing you obey me.” 

“I knew yo-you were a monster. I just didn’t realize you were a child moles-” Peter squeezed him again, laughing when Stiles yelped.

“I thought you had me all figured out, Stiles.” Stiles knew what Peter could do. He’d been the one to piece it all together. He’d seen how easily he could overpower Scott, how he’d almost killed the Sheriff when the man had tried to stop him from tearing Kate Argent limb from limb. Only Stiles begging on his knees, had stopped him then. While the boy had vastly misjudged Peter’s intentions by getting in the car with him, he would be pack soon and leashed to Peter’s desires. “You knew I was a monster, that a weak human like you couldn’t hope to stop me from doing whatever I want, and yet here you are. You offered yourself to me and this is what I want in exchange for your father’s life.” 

Stiles was trembling under Peter’s caress, his breathing growing labored, his body reacting. Power buzzed in Stiles, collecting under Peter’s hand just waiting to be bound. “But I can give you some semblance of control.” Peter smiled keeping his eyes on the road. “Why don’t you open your pants for me, Stiles?”

Stiles shook his head. “N-no, no way.”

Peter took his foot off the gas and let the car decelerate, pulling the car off the road and into a small clearing surrounded by bushes and trees. He maneuvered the car around a thicket and stopped when they were completely in the shade. The old road behind them was deserted, and even if someone drove by, most likely they won’t be able to see them from the road. 

Thirty miles back they’d passed an abandoned house. It had barely been a blip on the road. Out here, deep in the woods, there wasn’t a person around for miles and miles. Peter looked at Stiles and smiled, wide and dangerous, letting his teeth get sharper and allowing the change to bleed into his eyes, coloring everything red. The power waiting inside Stiles lit up under Peter’s enhanced vision just as it had last night when the boy had thrown himself in front of his father’s body and offered himself to Peter. “Would you rather I do something more involved? You won’t enjoy it, it’d be a pain in the ass.” 

Stiles violently shook his head. “No, that’s okay. I can-” Stiles licked his lips nervously, glancing around before leaning away from Peter. “I can do it. Okay. Just don’t-” 

“Don’t what?” Peter asked, his fingers idly stroking Stiles’ dick. The boy’s mouth clenched shut, his hand lifting and then faltering in the air. “Can you even say it Stiles? Hmm?” The boy’s eyes darted around the inside of the car, but there was no escape. His door wouldn’t open. Peter had made absolutely sure to be prepared before he’d released Stiles from the trunk. 

“Don’t worry, so long as you do what I ask I won’t need to fuck you. Now, do you want me to cut your pants off?”

He chuckled as Stiles shook his head. His hand curling into a fist. 

“Better get them open then,” Peter said, as Stiles glanced down where Peter’s hand still cupped him between his legs, worrying his lower lip in concentration. “I want to see everything.” Stiles’ heart was beating fast, too fast, but he nodded and took a deep unsteady breath, straightening up. 

Peter smiled and took his hand off the boy’s crotch, noting the way Stiles sighed in relief but then stilled as Peter put the car in park and shut off the engine. The sudden quiet made the boy’s racing heartbeat seem so much louder. Peter settled in. He had all the time in the world. 

Unbuckling the seatbelt, Stiles yanked at his t-shirt, pulling it out of his pants to expose an inch of pale dotted flesh. 

Stiles used his shaky hand to undo the button of his jeans, sliding down the zipper. There was a dusting of dark hair on the boy’s stomach leading into his underwear that was very distracting. Stiles pushed and pulled his pants down, his progress slowed with only the use of one hand and completely unnecessary. But Peter let the boy stall, using the time to drink in Stiles terror.

Stiles’ dick was tenting his briefs, half hard just from the stimulation of Peter’s hand. The smell of Stiles’ arousal grew sharp in the car as the layers were peeled away. The boy stilled in his seat, just breathing in and out, his head angled down, body curled protectively over himself, before he straightened up. Stiles turned to look directly at Peter and waited for him to meet his stare before he said, “I don’t want to do this.” 

“Part of you wants this,” Peter said, waving his hand at Stiles’ crotch. Maybe the boy would have argued with him that it was just an sexual response to being touched, but Peter didn’t give him the chance. “Pull them down.”

“You’re sick,” Stiles said, reaching down and finally pulling his underwear out of the way.

The boy’s dick was nestled in a tuft of dark hair, the head smooth and unprotected. It stood up almost hard, but the skin was still loose on the shaft. 

“I’m shocked to hear you think that, considering how willing you were to get into my car,” Peter said. “Spread your legs wider.”

Stiles obeyed reluctantly, shuffling his legs a little more open, the hand not bound to the door going white where it was digging into the seat. His heart was beating out of control, breath coming in short pants, the scent of terror sharp in the enclosed space. Stiles looked away, turning his face to the woods outside, the long pale stretch of his throat bared as if an offering to Peter, as if in submission.

Peter slipped his hand onto the boy’s bare hip, feeling Stiles jerk at the touch, his Adam’s apple moving as he swallowed. The skin under his hand was warm and soft, trembling like a skittish colt as Peter stroked up underneath the boy’s shirt. The boy’s dick twitched, growing harder in spite of Stiles’ distress as the boy tried to turn further away. That wouldn’t do. Peter wanted to see Stiles suffer.

“Pull your shirt out of the way.”

Stiles’ hand let go of the seat and fumbled around until he finally had to actually turn back and look to grab the shirt, jerking it up and holding it there, exposing his mostly hairless chest dotted with moles. Peter let his hand run up Stiles chest, almost tasting the boy’s fear and shame. The magic that would tie them together rested under his fingers, an electric current. 

Stiles trembled, watching Peter’s hand as if it was a snake. He couldn’t keep himself from responding to Peter’s touch and he certainly couldn’t hope to fight back. The power Peter had over the boy was intoxicating. Peter took a deep breath to steady himself. This next part had to be done with care. 

Peter let his claws come out. 

“Whoa, wait, don’t!” Stiles said, before Peter silenced the boy with a look.

“It won’t hurt,” he said, running one of the claws feather light down between Stiles’ pecs as the boy froze, not even daring to breathe, eyes wide and fearful. Using the claw, Peter drew a symbol onto the skin of Stiles’ chest, barely breaking the skin at all. This was what would bind them together. Turning his hand, Peter trailed the tips of his claws down Stiles’ skin, stopping right before he reached the boy’s dick. 

The feeling of the bond pulled taut in Peter’s mind, power pulsing between them, causing the mark on Stiles to light up faintly with power. A startled whimper escaped the boy’s lips as Peter pulled back.

“Wha- what’s happening?” Stiles gasped at the sensation, eyes going wide as he arched his back, the mark flashing bright with power, his dick surging fully erect without a touch as if the bond itself aroused him. Peter could hear the boy’s heartbeat trip and then race out of control. 

“Nothing to worry about. Just our bond setting up. Making you receptive to me,” Peter said, licking his lips. Reaching down, he let a claw trace up Stiles’ dick, feeling the solid virility of the boy, making the bond flare with an extra boost of power. When he removed his claw, Stiles slumped in the seat, gasping deep breaths, his eyes wide and fearful, staring in confusion at his dick, now hard and leaking.

Peter licked his hand, getting it wet, tasting Stiles on himself. Using the same claw he cut a smaller symbol onto his tongue, opening his connection to the bond and offering a little blood to the mix. The boy warily watched him, flinching when Peter reached back over. 

“Don’t look so worried,” Peter said, showing Stiles his human hand, “no more claws. From here out it’s just a handjob.”

“Just a handjob?” Stiles squeaked out, putting a heavy amount of emphasis on the word ‘just’ in bafflement. 

“For now.”

“For now? What does that mean?” Stiles shrank back from Peter, the realization plain on his face. “No.”

“You know what that means; you aren’t stupid,” Peter said, smirking at the boy’s terror. Of course this wasn’t going to be a one-time thing. “But don’t worry. For today, once you come it’ll be all over. You’ll be bound to me as part of my pack.” 

“I don’t want to be a part of your pack! I don’t want any of this.”

“I know, that’s the part I enjoy the most. Just think of all the fun we’ll have.” 

The boy froze, shaking his head in denial. “No.”

“You don’t have a choice.” Letting his eyes bleed red, he smiled, watching the boy shrink in on himself, exposed and completely alone. Peter reached for Stiles’ dick. Stiles flinched, closing his eyes, body tense and rigid as if he was fighting himself. The boy’s dick was hard now, and it twitched when Peter closed his hand around it, a little pre-come leaking as he rubbed his thumb under the head, making Stiles tremble.

When Peter stroked Stiles’ dick, the boy gasped, a moan punched deep out of the back of his throat, eyes flying open as if startled by it.

“Don’t look so surprised, it’s supposed to feel good,” Peter said. That didn’t reassure Stiles, who shuddered and shook his head, biting his lip to try and hold back his groans as his body surged under Peter’s touch. Peter wondered just how much of the sensation was being enhanced by the bond as Stiles’ struggled to control himself. 

Stiles arched in unwanted pleasure with every pump and twist of his hand. The connection strengthened with each stroke, the magic bouncing between them as Stiles’ dick stood hard and aching. His hips jerking up into Peter’s hand, chasing the sensations as he gasped in desperate breaths. 

Stiles’ eyes were wide and terrified, his hand clawing at the seat, struggling futilely against his own reactions.

All of Peter’s senses went into overdrive. He could feel the pulsing heat of the Stiles’ arousal coursing through the boy’s body. The smell of it was so thick in the car it almost overpowered the terror and fear. The light outside seemed to get brighter, and his vision sharpened enough to see deep into the forest. The sounds of nature were now easy to hear, though still overpowered by every little gasping, whimpering noise Stiles made. Every now and then, Peter felt his focus sharpen, and could even hear the flow of the boy’s blood as it rushed to flood the skin he was touching. Peter swiped his thumb over the flushed, sensitive head of Stiles’ dick, touching along the almost invisible line his claw had traced, ripping a startled moan out of the boy and making Stiles flinch at himself. Peter watched the boy’s body shake, so he did it again, chasing a bead of pre-come leaking from the tip. Stiles gasped, arching his body, clenching his eyes closed as he bit his bottom lip to try and hold the sounds in. 

Peter could feel the boy’s resistance weakening as he stroked him closer and closer to climax.

“Look at me,” Peter commanded, pulling his hand away from Stiles to lick it, watching in satisfaction as the boy slumped in his seat, gasping for breath, his dick red, hard, and flushed. The taste of Stiles’ arousal made the mark on his tongue flare, power pouring in, as the bond opened wider. The boy turned his head away, trembling in the seat next to him as the mark on his skin glowed bright and the thick weight of magic filled the car. 

When the boy didn’t obey his command, Peter reached for Stiles. The bond was almost complete. All he needed to do was make the boy submit to him, surrender to his arousal. 

“Stiles, look at me,” he commanded, Alpha power bleeding into the words, making the boy twitch—but still he looked away. “Look at me.” Stiles turned, his eyes lost and dazed. 

But before Peter’s hand could touch Stiles, the boy snapped to attention as if he could feel the noose tightening. 

“No,” Stiles said in a hollow voice, his eyes re-focusing on him, wide and frantic, before he jerked himself away from Peter and launched himself at the door with a cry. Pulling madly at his hand bound to the armrest, he desperately yanked at the useless door handle and rammed his body against the door to no effect. The bond stretched, tearing thin, the power rushing out of Peter like water through his hands as Stiles rejected him. 

“Let me out!” Stiles yelled. “I don’t want this. Help!”

Peter unbuckled his seatbelt. Reaching across the cab he grabbed the hand Stiles swung wildly at him and held it in iron grip. Pinning it against the boy’s seat, he grabbed Stiles by the neck and slammed his head against the door.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t fucking touch me!” Stiles screamed, fury and anger in his voice as Peter climbed over the console to hold him down. The bond narrowed, weakening as if it had never been there until it was stretched thin and gossamer, like a spider’s web. “Let me go!” 

“Stop fighting me.”

“No, no, no,” Stiles said, continuing to struggle uselessly against Peter’s enhanced strength until Peter shifted, his eyes glowing red and his teeth sharpening, which finally penetrated the boy’s terror. Stiles froze under Peter, his eyes wide, panting. “What are you doing to me?” he whispered.

“I’m making you pack, whether you want it or not,” Peter said. He could feel the boy trembling as he leaned in, nosing at Stiles’ neck, feeling the boy shake. When he bit down on the meat of the boy’s shoulder Stiles screamed, even though Peter used only blunt human teeth.

Peter worried the bite but it wasn’t enough. The bond remained thin and weak, but it hadn’t broken. His legs pinned Stiles to the seat, as he settled himself into Stiles’ space. He licked down the boy’s neck, mouthing at the skin just to feel Stiles shake. 

“Get off me! You fucking pervert,” Stiles yelled. Peter cut through the ropes that held Stiles’ other wrist to the door, grabbing both wrists in one hand, he jerked Stiles’ arms up over his head. The boy looked good like that but it was even better when he pulled the lever reclining the seat, stretching Stiles’ body out underneath him. Peter loomed over the boy, letting Stiles jerk and struggle against him. Stiles’ dick was completely soft now, but Stiles’ big eyes were hard and wet as he wiggled uselessly against Peter’s enhanced strength, desperate to escape with nowhere to go. Peter waited out Stiles’ terror and anger until the boy stopped struggling, gasping and trembling under him.

“Are you finished?” 

“Fuck off,” Stiles said, his voice hoarse and broken. Peter smiled at that. He had to give it to the boy—he had nerve. 

He reached down, tugging Stiles’ shirt up, bunching it up under the boy’s chin so he could run his fingers over the mark he’d clawed into the boy. The power was still there, wanting to be used, but if he couldn’t make the boy submit he’d have to force the bond. 

“Stop touching me.”

“Make me.”

Stroking his hand up and down the boy’s chest, he let Stiles calm down before he rubbed down hard on a nipple making the boy shiver. Stiles clenched his eyes shut with a grimace as Peter rolled it between his fingers, he pinched it hard to force a yelp out of the boy, making him buck in surprise.

“You fucking sick pervert,” Stiles said, struggling anew.

“Me?” Peter said, enjoying the way the boy arched into the sensation, gasping and jerking to escape as he switched to the other nipple. “I’m not the one that’s so responsive. Look at you, you don’t know whether you hate this or like it. Do you?”

He let go of that nipple, leaning down over the boy so he could lick the little nub, tasting Stiles’ fear and terror on his skin. Peter used his tongue to reactivate the mark on his chest, the lines filling in with power once more as he licked them. Switching things up he started to lick and suck on one nipple while his hand pinched the other, pulling yelping gasps and strangled cries out of the boy. Stiles struggled uselessly against his grip, arching in pain as Peter played with the boy’s nipples until each one was red and sensitive, and Stiles was whimpering at every gentle touch and lick. Peter leaned back, looking down at the mess he’d made of Stiles, watching as the boy gasped in deep breaths, trying to recover. Peter let go of Stiles’ wrists to reach over and pocket the car keys out of the ignition before turning back to stare at the boy.

“I’m going to give you a choice,” Peter said, Stiles flinched as he rubbed his wrists.

“Really?” Stiles said, voice heavy with sarcasm. 

“You can either lay there and let me finish getting you off without fighting me, or I’m going to have to fuck you.” 

Stiles’ mouth thinned into a hard line furiously looking at Peter, his body tense and rigid underneath him. “You mean you’re going to rape me.”

“Of course.” Peter felt no shame in that desire. 

Stiles shook under him, trembling as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath before looking up, glaring at Peter.

“Go fuck yourself,” Stiles said, voice shaking, but with power in every word. 

Laughing, Peter easily flipped the boy over, ripping a surprised, high-pitched sound from Stiles and putting the boy’s bare ass on display. Pulling Stiles’ pants and underwear down with one hand, Peter trapped Stiles’ legs together. The boy struggled, managing to fold his legs under him before Peter draped himself over the boy, pinning him to the reclined seat so that his face was mashed into the headrest, hands flailing around the back seat.

“I’m going to enjoy fucking you into submission,” Peter said, with a rumble of Alpha power to his voice. Stiles struggled to get his arms under him to scramble away, but Peter pressed a hand on Stiles neck, holding the boy’s head down, cutting off his escape but enjoying the feeling of the boy’s body rubbing up against his. The arch of Stiles’ back pushed his bare ass right into Peter’s crotch, and even though Stiles was putting his all into getting away, Peter’s enhanced strength easily kept the boy pinned. He moved his other hand to grab Stiles’ hip, keeping him from pulling away as Peter pushed his crotch against the boy. Thrusting his hips, he enjoyed the way Stiles trembled as Peter’s trapped erection rubbed against the boy’s bare ass. The noises Stiles made were incredible. 

“I don’t want this!”

“Oh I know. I’m quite enjoying your struggle.” Groaning, Peter leaned down so he could whisper into the boy’s ear, “It doesn’t matter how much you fight. You’re going to be mine in the end.”

Releasing his hip, Peter pushed the boy’s shirt up to expose his back. Still holding Stiles down by the neck, Peter let his claws come out. Stiles froze with wide eyes, looking over his shoulder at them. 

It was as if the world held it’s breath as Peter pressed his claws down on trembling skin, cutting the binding symbols shallowly into the boy’s back. This time, beads of blood welled up into red lines on the boy’s flesh. Stiles’ heartbeat raced out of control. When the last line was done, Peter could feel it as the boy’s power leaked out of the symbol, escaping, unconsciously reaching for something, desperate to complete the open connection. Stiles shook, gasping in air as if he was underwater, his eyes wild in confusion. 

“Wha- what are you doing?”

“I’m forcing you to bond with me.”

The scent of Stiles’ blood was powerfully addictive, but Peter held himself back, watching the incomplete bond bleed slowly, ripping at the boy’s energy, pulling away pieces of the boy’s spark. He could feel the pain on the boy’s skin as the leakage ramped up, the need to be connected becoming unbearable. 

“No!” Stiles screamed, a sharp gasping wail. 

But there would be no refusing this.

Peter licked his claw, getting Stiles’ blood onto his own mark. The connection snapped, opening wide between them again, but this time harsh and painful, the magic slamming their energy together, tying Stiles to Peter. The power rushed between them, setting the marks on Stiles’ back ablaze with light, making the boy shriek, the sound cutting off as his teeth clenched together. 

The bond expanded, blown wide open.

Peter gasped at the rush of power, undoing his pants and pulling them down, desperate to touch himself. He kept his hand on the boy’s neck as Stiles arched and jerked, feeling the magic ripping painfully through him. Finally, Peter managed to get his pants open, his cock sprong out of his boxers hard and flushed. The symbol had slowly dimmed in intensity, leaving black and red lines on the boy’s back in its wake. The boy sobbed, writhing in pain. Licking his hand, Peter stroked himself as the half-naked boy trembled and jerked in front of him. It was almost as good as porn, and Peter put his fingers to his mouth, sucking to get them nice and wet. 

When the power had settled and the boy lay there gasping for breath, Peter pulled his spit slick fingers out of his mouth and rubbed them into the boy’s ass crack. He startled, yelping at the sensation, but was too weak to do anything. 

“Don’t,” Stiles gasped, jerking feebly, shivering as Peter stroked his fingers up and down, getting Stiles’ asshole nice and slick before he grabbed a cheek to expose the boy. 

He could feel the bond pulsating under their skin, but it wasn’t quite complete. Stiles had to submit. 

Peter finally released Stiles’ neck and slapped his hand down on his wounded back, anticipating the way Stiles jerked forward. When the boy moved up, Peter grabbed his hip and pressed his face in between Stiles’ cheeks. Smelling the boy’s rich scent and his own spit, Peter stabbed his tongue deep into the boy’s tight little hole. Stiles squawked, scrambling weakly against the seat but Peter easily held him in position so he could push the mark on his tongue inside the boy. Between licking at the tight furl of his rim and stabbing his tongue in deep, he easily worked Stiles open. 

He pulled the boy’s cheeks apart with his thumbs, gripping his hips with bruising force, loving the way Stiles gasped and jerked, struggling to escape. The taste of the boy’s fear and desire coated his tongue. The power was building up, sparked by Peter’s mark as it laved inside Stiles. The boy was powerless to do anything but take it, to feel what Peter was doing to him, knowing what was coming but completely at Peter’s mercy.

Stiles whimpered, his hole clenching as Peter’s tongue forced its way inside, bucking with a yell when Peter sucked at his rim. The boy’s ass was slick and dripping when Peter finally pulled back, Stiles slumped against the seat back. His eyes were closed, mouth open, his whole body desperately gasping for air. Stiles’ dick was getting hard again, power pooling, begging for release. Peter rubbed his fingers against the slick hole, watching the boy’s eyes fly open right before he pushed one all the way inside. Crying out, Stiles jerked underneath Peter, his hole clenching down but still opening—so sweetly—to let his finger sink in. 

“No!” Stiles gasped, but Peter just smiled, twisting the finger, watching it glide easily in and out. Peter didn’t give Stiles a chance to get used to the feeling before pulling the finger out and stabbing two fingers back in, easily pushing them deep inside. Twisting and fucking his fingers in and out, Peter groaned at the view—the boy’s wet hole was opening for him, the bond mark flaring bright on every thrust. The boy’s body ached to complete the ritual even if Stiles would never accept it. 

“Please stop! Please,” Stiles finally begged. Peter paused to consider this, pulling his fingers out of Stiles body, relishing the way the boy panted under him. 

“You’re the one who chose this,” Peter said, fondling the boy’s balls, wrenching a broken moan from the boy.

“You call this a choice?” Stiles gasped out. Peter felt the boy twitch in his hand, the blood pulsing with power, once more desperate for release. The symbols on the boy’s back flared, making the boy whimper in pain, panting, his dick aching and hard.

Peter chuckled, letting go of the boy. “You offered yourself to me,” he said, stroking his own straining cock, Peter pushed forward, relishing the way Stiles’ eyes widened at the feeling of it rubbing against his ass crack.

“Not for this!” Stiles said, desperation saturating every word. “To save my dad and Scott!”

“Two for one, and all you had to do was submit and let me you touch you.” Peter keep hold of Stiles’ hip, keeping the boy still as he grabbed a cheek and exposed him. His cock looked massive next to Stiles’ wet hole. Peter watched the boy clench down as he rubbed the head of his cock on the boy’s rim. “Yet you’re still fighting me. I’d almost think you wanted me to do this.”

The tip of his cock slid a little bit inside the boy; his hole easily spreading open, wet and slick. Stiles jerked violently at the feeling, crying out. Peter pulled out, rubbing his cock up and down the boy’s crack, sliding in the wetness. 

“Please don’t do this,” Stiles begged, eyes wide and wet, his body tense. The bond quivered between them—the boy was just waiting to be claimed, to be fucked.

“If you wanted to stop me, you should have taken the bite, Stiles,” Peter said, before he pushed himself into the boy. Stiles grunted in surprise, his body stretching wide around the head of Peter’s cock, opening up to welcome him in. The boy’s hands scrambled against the seat as Stiles’ body arched, his hole desperately clenching around Peter. It was wonderful. The boy was slick and hot, gasping and crying out as Peter’s thick length slid relentlessly into him. The bond sang all around Peter, throwing his senses wide open. Peter put both hands on Stiles hips, to steady himself as he bottomed out, cock buried all the way inside. 

The bond sizzled between them. Stiles panted beneath Peter, shivering and twitching. 

Peter looked down, amazed to see Stiles stretched tight around him, the heat of the boy encasing all of Peter. It was obscene how Stiles’ body accepted Peter, but it wasn’t enough.

Pulling back experimentally, Peter watched his cock, slippery and wet, slide in and out with a snap of his hips. He moaned at the sensation as Stiles whimpered. The symbol on Stiles flared to life, strangling a gasp from the boy at the dual stimulation. Peter leaned over, thrusting into the boy, quickly picking up speed. The slap of his hips as they moved was loud in the enclosed space. The way Stiles’ ass wiggled and bounced as his cock pounded in and out, magic surging all around them, made everything feel sharper and stronger. The smell of the boy’s terror, arousal, and humiliation made Peter pant desperately, tasting the air. Greedily, Peter fucked him faster and harder, needing to hear Stiles’ gasps rising in pitch. The boy was almost constantly yelping as Peter pounded into him, the power building ever higher before it crackled painfully and Peter paused, still deep inside. 

Stiles gasped in huge, sobbing gulps of air under him, trembling as Peter rubbed a hand up and down the boy’s back, fingers sliding painfully over the bond marks, making the boy hiss and jerk. He forced Stiles to come down from the edge. The boy couldn’t come first—not this time. Peter slowly rolled his hips, rubbing his cock inside the boy, letting the power between them settle back down before he started thrusting again. 

This time Peter kept a hand pressed painfully into the bond mark as he fucked the boy hard and fast, his fingers digging, in making Stiles whimper in pain and arch his back. Peter could feel Stiles’ tight hot hole clench around him as he slammed himself into the boy over and over. Stiles cried as Peter fucked him, body dripping in sweat and trembling at the abuse. The flickering flare of the bond pulled them closer and closer. Time seemed to stretch as they fucked, Peter taking what he wanted without a care. 

Peter stuttered to a stop, hips rolling in small motions, rubbing his cock deep inside to make Stiles gasp in sharp cut off breaths while he groaned in pleasure. Peter was so close, hard and aching. Everything was brighter, smells were more intense, the boy’s heartbeat loud like thunder, and the magic between them so energetic it felt like a hurricane under his hands. Peter pulled out slowly and slammed in, a harsh quick stroke. Rubbing in deep, he repeated it, pounding with punishing thrusts, feeling the boy’s body clench and give. The sensation building and building until he slammed in and held himself still, feeling himself crest on a wave of pleasure. Hips shuddering, Peter laughed, coming deep inside the boy. He howled as the magic surged into him, flowing out from where they were joined together. 

He came back to himself, panting, curled over the boy, pinning him down, fingers digging into the boy’s back, spread obscenely large over the bond mark. The boy quivered underneath him, body trembling and gasping, his eyes staring at nothing. Everything that for years had felt burned away and wrong in Peter settled and evened out. He felt in control, powerful, and awake, his cock buried deep inside his new pack member. What a wonderful way to wake up.

Peter smiled down at the boy, enjoying what was finally his. The bond sang between them, begging for one more thing to finish it. He could deny it and leave Stiles desperate and broken, always half complete. But it wouldn’t bind the boy as tightly to him, and Peter wanted everything.

Bracing a hand on Stiles’ ass, Peter pulled his cock out, relishing the sharp cry Stiles made as he slid free. He paused at the sight of Stiles’ wrecked hole, looking so used and wet as it gaped open, the smell of Peter’s come overpowering everything else as it started to leak out, before shaking his head. It wasn’t over yet—Peter flipped Stiles easily, causing the boy to yelp, hissing in pain when the symbol on his back pressed against the seat. Looking up at Peter, tear tracks on his face, Stiles flinched, eyes wide, mouth open and gasping for air. 

Stiles’ skin was flushed, red all the way down his chest, the boy’s cock still hard and leaking. Peter pushed up Stiles’ shirt as he leaned over to lick his chest, taking advantage of Stiles’ stupor to capture his hands and hold them down by his hips. Tracing the almost invisible claw marks, Peter pushed his own power into the boy using the mark on his tongue to set the symbols on his chest alight again. Stiles jerked in pain as the symbol flared. 

“No, no, no,” Stiles babbled, struggling weakly against Peter’s hold. Dropping back on to the floorboard, Peter nuzzled his way down the trail of hair to the boy’s crotch. Licking a stripe up the boy’s dick, Peter swirled his tongue around the sensitive head before opening his mouth and sliding it all the way down. He sucked Stiles’ straining flesh, bobbing his head up and down as the boy gasped, hips both jerking forward and flinching away from Peter, as if the boy didn’t know what to do. 

The taste of him was intoxicating. Peter mouthed the head of the boy’s dick, chasing the beads of come as they leaked from the tip. He pressed the mark on his tongue up against the hard flesh, feeling all the symbols on the boy flare bright and painfully strong as his own power poured into Stiles. Sucking the boy’s dick deep down his throat, Peter swallowed around him over and over, pressing his nose to Stiles’ skin, feeling the boy tremble right on the edge. Peter let go of Stiles’ hands so he could pull open the boy’s legs and shove three fingers deep into his loose, sloppy hole, filled with come. Everything crested and Stiles screamed, body snapping taut as he lost his struggle and came in Peter’s mouth. 

The bond crested, exploding between them, power bouncing back and forth before settling under Peter’s skin, into his bones. He pulled back, letting Stiles’ soft dick fall out of his mouth, licking his lips and smirking as he took in the boy’s haunted expression and heaving chest, the symbols slowly fading away, but the taste of the boy’s come still lingering on his tongue. 

Stiles’ thoughts started to filter over, a buzzing white noise as if the boy had been emptied out. Pulling his fingers out of the boy’s ass, Peter crawled up to loom over the boy, eyes flitting over Stiles, cataloging everything. This had been Stiles’ first time and Peter had taken it. He didn’t want to forget a thing about this. Peter rubbed away a tear that rolled down Stiles face before he pulled up his own pants, tucking himself away and zipping up.

Human pack members needed more time to acclimate to a bond, especially one forced on them. Smirking down at Stiles, Peter breathed in deeply, smelling how the car reeked of their union. Stiles was stuffed full of Peter’s come, he leaned over to nuzzle the boy’s neck and kiss Stiles’ lax mouth. There was no resistance, only a small thread of terror when Peter pulled back.

“That wasn’t so bad was it? I think I’m going to enjoy having you in my pack,” Peter said, running his hands up and down the boy’s body, feeling out all of the places their binding had left marks of pain, fingers tracing the bruises that Peter didn’t remember leaving on Stiles’ hips. “We’ll have to do this again soon. There’s so much I have to teach you about giving me pleasure.”

Stiles sobbed and shook his head.

“Oh, I know you won’t enjoy it, but that’s not going to be a problem for me.” Tugging the boy’s hips off the seat, Peter pulled his underwear and pants up, righting the boy’s clothing and zipping him up. Setting the boy down, Peter ran his hands up Stiles’ chest, flicking the boy’s sore nipples before tugging down Stiles’ shirt, enjoying the way the boy flinched and trembled at the manhandling but couldn’t coordinate his limbs enough to move away. Pulling up on the lever, Peter left the seat slightly reclined. 

He buckled the boy back in and shifted himself over into the driver’s seat, settling himself down and feeling more in control than he ever had. Not even biting Scott had made him feel like this. Pulling the car keys out of his back pocket, he turned the car on and buckled himself in.

The sound of the car seem to wake Stiles up a little and he shuddered in his seat. The feelings of shame, violation, helplessness, and fear chased each other across the bond. Peter smirked at the boy, letting his smug satisfaction roll back over to him, watching Stiles jerk away, pushing himself against the door, staring at Peter in horror. 

“You can feel me? Good, good.”

Stiles shook his head, but Peter just let his smile grow sharp. Horror radiated out from the bond as the boy grabbed his head, eyes going wide. “What did you do to me?” Stiles said, his voice raspy and shrill.

“I made you a part of my pack.”

“I didn’t feel anything like this with Scott.” 

“Of course not, he didn’t want to control you. Don’t worry, he’ll never know,” Peter said, letting the feeling of ownership and possession leak through the bond along with flashes of all of the ways Peter could make the boy kneel. “After all, you’re a part of my pack now—and you’ll never see him again.” 

The boy started trembling, curling in on himself. Peter could hear his breathing go sharp and panicked, the smell of his terror so rich and soothing. Stiles’ mind was crowded with negation and fear. Terror took over and Peter felt so powerful. A loop of Peter raping Stiles in so many different wonderful ways spiraled out of control from Stiles’ mind, and Peter felt himself get hard instantly. Stiles couldn’t control what he was sending over yet, and Peter reveled in being able to read him like an open book. All his fears on display. 

Peter placed his hand on Stiles’ thigh again, soaking up the boy’s horror and revulsion, the loop becoming more fraught. So many great ideas. Peter couldn’t wait to try them out.

“Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it,” Peter said. 

Backing the car out of the little clearing, Peter looked both ways down the empty stretch of road before he pulled on to the highway. He didn’t look back as he drove them further and further away from Beacon Hills.


End file.
